orioncayge
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Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 724
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 10
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Post by orioncayge on Dec 3, 2023 10:58:20 GMT 9
The walk home was a strangely nostalgic one, in a backwards fucked up sort of way. He used to live a lot closer to center city, where the houses were…well, houses and not glorified trailers dolled up to try to pass for houses. Yet the southside elementary school had been in the middle of the region, so in his journey inward he found himself standing at the gate of his old elementary school.
Frankly, whatever imaginary apocalypse hadn’t done much to the place.
Windows lay shattered, broken glass strewn treacherously like clear landmines in the sand. The paint was faded, chipped, and peeling but that was nothing new. The front doors weren’t even present anymore, blasted away by dunes of sand that seemed to be filling the building from the inside out.
As he continued down the road he found himself gazing wistfully at the playground he spent recess at all the time. Strangely enough, the playground before him was some strange fusion of the one he’d had as a child and the one they’d built after a generous donation from a benefactor after he’d gone to middle school. Old rickety monkey bars and metal slides clashed and overlapped with plastic playhouses and swings. Woodchips, plastic padding, and sand intermingled freely at the floor as the whole place had fallen into a desolate sense of disrepair.
Continuing down the road, Orion couldn’t help but reminisce about all the times his father had picked him up from school and they’d walked home together. Not for lack of a car or anything, but because his father always valued time spent together while active. He’d always been a health nut, it was where he’d gotten it from after all. The ground was still littered with the same cracks that his dad always warned him about stepping on for fear of breaking his mamas back. Poppa Cayge would lift tiny Rion up and over them, giggles filling the air.
There was nothing in the air now, just silence.
Ṛ̵̥̫͒̅e̸͉̠͛m̴̖̊ę̴͖͘m̸͔̄͜ḇ̷̂́̐ȅ̷̦̗̦̑r̸̢̜̓͊
Orion was sure he’d rather have the silence back as static filled the air. Something about the noise felt grating, like sandpaper on his teeth.
“Remember what?” He snarled, looking around like this mysterious phantom would suddenly phase into existence. No, he knew better than that, but it didn’t stop him anyways. As his Tio would always say, they weren’t at the right part of the grand play for that sort of thing. Yet as he glanced around, something did seemingly phase into existence out of nowhere.
Chalk outlines.
The ground was inundated with them, not so much that they ever overlapped, and not so frequent that you couldn’t swing a stick without hitting one, but they were surprisingly common. Humanoid in shape, though they varied widely. Some were all splayed out, arms and legs at strange angles, others were plain and straight as if they were corpses in coffins.
R̷̢̄e̶͚͍̲͗m̸̱̾͠ͅe̵̡͓̚m̸̨͙͙̑b̶̝̥͖̈́͝͠e̷̛̮ř̵̪̣̀̒ ̷̫̐w̵̹̫̟͒̄̾h̵͓̩͕̓̏ȁ̸̙t̸̜̓ ̸̬̥͎̋ĥ̷̽͛ͅa̴̧͉͎͝p̵̡̐̕͜p̷̱̂́͆ę̵̑̈́n̷͓̪̅̋́ë̵͔̻̪́d̴̨̖̮͠
The words made Orion’s stomach churn, and had he eaten anything in this digital world he’d be liable to throw it up as his mouth dried and his breathing grew more shaky. These were clearly crime scenes, and sure, Southside had been no stranger to unlawful disorder, but this? This looked like something out of a massacre.
A massacre.
The word itself was like lightning, the mental equivalent of shoving a fork into an electric socket. Had he forgotten something like this? There was no way, right? That had to be impossible, no, it was impossible! He continued his way forward, but each footstep grew shakier and shakier as he grew closer and closer to his family home. He was just a couple blocks away at this point, but his dread that he’d once banished came back stronger with every inch he crept closer. The outlines seemed to grow less and less frequent, which should have been a good thing, yet Orion could only dread what was coming next.
Yet he continued forward, one foot in front of the other.
The sooner he got home the sooner he could get home, leave this shitty fucked up version of his home behind and go back to bein with his bro. The sooner he could log out and grab a slice of Za at Joes and try to unwind. Maybe a beer or two, or three or four, anything to scrub this from his mind.
Ẏ̴̞̖͝ỏ̴̳̈͑ȗ̷̻̄̈́͜ ̶͇̱̬̌h̶̖͍͒̈ͅa̵͎̭̓v̸͚̓̒̕ę̴͓̅̎̓͜ ̷̯͝t̸̜͛͊ò̴̰̞̫ ̵̮̜̃̈́s̶̖͒͑t̷̡͚̩̀́ò̸̮p̶̼̈́̽ ̵̗̃̿̊r̶͔͇̈́͋̆u̴̞̭͗̔͂n̸͇̔n̶̮͓̻̿̄̇ĩ̵͈͑ṉ̵̨͇̒g̴̟̱̜̑͂
The words were getting louder, the static growing from a simple crackle to an almost thunderous roar. Who the fuck was this disembodied voice to tell him who or what to do? A slight surge of anger pushed back against the dread, enough to help him regain some semblance of nerve, but not enough to burn away the fear and despair that had begun to fill his heart. For once in his life Orion found something he couldn’t just rage against, thrash and roil and smash his head against it until it gave.
Finally he turned the corner and was in his old neighborhood, a nostalgic little cul-de-sac that he and his cousins used to set up basketball nets on either side and shoot hoops on when they were tiny lil tikes. The whole Cayge Clan had lived here once upon a time, Uncle Joey and Mac had the houses on the left. Tio Bruno and his dad had the ones on the left, and gramps and nan lived in the middle. They used to have all sorts of fun out here, barbeques, fiestas, movie nights played on a projector onto Gramps’ garage. Yet none of that warmth remained, what lay before him was a cold corpse of something he’d once loved dearly. God, how long had it been since he’d set foot here?
Seventeen years?
Orion found himself rooted in place as he hovered on the threshold of this old road. Why had they moved again? The notion struck him as odd, he had no recollection of any of it really. Sure, it was around the time that mom walked out on them, but everyone else had left too. Why? Try as he might he couldn’t recall, but surely there had to be some reason, right?
Y̸̯̩̘̆̋́o̸̫͋̈́ū̵͉͝͝ ̴̠̿k̷̓̊̑ͅn̵̤̿ǒ̵͍͓͙͠w̶̹̉ ̴̳̤̽w̸͈̗͚͑h̶̗̮͛̏͝y̶͍̜̯͋̔̕
The voice roared through his mind like a clap of thunder, jolting him from his stupor and causing him to physically jump. The silence did not return, however. Instead, for the first time since he’d set foot in this sandy hellscape he heard noise, but it wasn’t a welcome change. The crackle of fire filled the air paired with distant screaming and shouting occasionally punctuated by the staccato cracks of gunfire.
It was like the world was ending.
Orion forced his feet forward, every step felt like he was dragging ten ton steel shoes. He forced himself to breath, but it came in slow shaggy breaths. He just needed to get to his home, through that fucking door, he just had to leave this town behind.
Step by step he continued onwards, each one inching him closer and closer out of this fucked up nightmare. Soon this home was within sight, gutted and carved out by the ravages of time. The garage door had been ripped from it’s hinges and left strewn mangled in a sand dune where the lawn once was. The driveway had been smashed to pieces and was closer to a gravel path mixed with sand than anything else. Both sides were framed with massive mountains of sand that threatened to topple over any minute.
Shuffling forward, Orion did his best to hasten his way to the front door. That was the goal, he knew it, he just had to get there. One foot in front of the other, through gravel and sand, he was practically at the finish line.
S̴̙̪̿̀͝ẗ̴̙́̔̑ǫ̷̢͚̾̏p̷̝͔͐
This time the voice was barely a whisper, drowning in the chaos that had been roaring through the air, yet it held all of the authority of god almighty as Orion felt himself rooted in place. Instinctually he turned around, and there standing at the foot of the driveway was a sight he wasn’t expecting to see at all.
Himself.
He was nine or ten years old, standing just barely in the ballpark of five feet tall. On his right foot he wore a classic pair of sketchers that lit up with every step, the left shoe was missing altogether. He wore a tattered pair of khaki cargo shorts and a little white tank top that was soaked in blood despite no visible injuries on his person. His face was…well, it wasn’t. It had no mouth, no eyes or nose or eyebrows, yet the contours where those features should have existed remained.
He was like a doll that hadn’t been finished.
“You’ve got to be fucking shitting me…” Orion breathed in horror. “Is this some sort of fucked up joke?”
Ň̸̳̖́ở̶̠͍͚͠ the voice replied staring blankly at him. T̷̬͙̠̉h̵̩̺̮͒͌͠ȉ̸̝̥̟̕s̴̢̛̱̊̾ ̸͉̈́́̀ì̴̳̘̎s̶̞̟̯̄ ̸̜̔á̸͍͍̣̇ ̷̭͔͉̈ẅ̷̜̗́̓͋a̸̩͂k̸̫͑̿̐e̵̡̫̰̿u̸͚̺͆p̵̪͗̔ ̸̧͓͆́̚c̵̠̼͂̔̎a̴̜̕l̸͈͛̐͗ĺ̷̨̦̮͌͝
“A wakeup call?” Orion asked, some rage boiling up inside of him. The shock of everything around him was starting to wear off, replaced with indignation that some two bit avatar of his childhood was trying to make a fucking point about something. “Why don’t you get to the fucking point before I-”
Ỷ̴͚͚͙o̷͇͙̦̍̆u̴͔̐̒̈́ ̵͍͈͉͌k̸̮͔̰̉ņ̸͚̳̀̏̕o̶̥̤͗̊͠w̴͈̋̃͘ ̵̼̌t̸̪̤̃̌̓h̵̡̊ĕ̶̡ ̸͚̠͕̑͗t̸̘͍̿̓͘ͅṟ̵͈̏̈́͝ȕ̷̮t̸̻͙̾̚h̴̽ͅͅ
The words cut Orion off mid shout, robbing him of his voice as the words sliced down to the bone.
Ÿ̵̗̹̆ọ̷̡̔u̷̩̬͚̇́͝'̶͔̟̯̍v̷̘̽̊ẽ̸͚̈ ̶͚̈́̑̾b̷̼͋ȕ̸̳̆͘r̷̢͉̃i̶͚̞͝e̸̘̼͋̀d̸̛̝̫͊̎ ̴̠͔̮̐̄i̶̢͔͚͗͝ṫ̸̯͚̣͑͠ ̶̹̙̱̇t̸̪͈̜͂͗o̶̭̝͋ͅ ̵̥̬͎̆̔p̸̭̩̞̀̈́ŕ̸̖́ǒ̸̙̂͘t̸̼͕̙̀̏́ę̵̰̲̈c̴̠̽̕ť̴̹̣͠ͅ ̶̦̯̾̈̒y̴̮͚̒̈́̓o̴̡̺͋͋͜u̵̲̹̔̈r̶̨͙͛s̷̰̾͘ĕ̴͓̓̚l̵̨̳̊̔ͅf̵̯̒̄̾
The wind began to pick up, blowing away the sandy dunes all around them, sending cascades of sand careening into the void above them.
Y̵̠̠̲̅͠o̶̼̎͜ṷ̴̝̆̊͑ ̴̦̫̂̏w̶̦̆e̶̜̟̐͐r̶̲̬͉̓͛ë̶̘̥̈́ ̷͈͓̕ŷ̶̪̭̳̊̈́ő̸̹̣̖ù̸̬̆ṉ̷̎ġ̵̱̝̮͠
Orion found his stomach churning again. “What are you talking about?”
N̶̩̩̥͛o̸̺̹͘ͅb̵͕̝̽o̷͇̩̾̾̂d̴̦̏ý̵͙̥̻ ̶̤̈́̓̚w̸̹̫̾́̍ͅȧ̶̯͝n̴͚̠̜̉̽t̶̼̤̽e̵̦̣̤̽́d̶͉̼͖̊̒̇ ̶̰͖͙͝ṫ̷̢͙̜́̅o̴̹͌͛ ̴͙͠r̶͕̊̓̾i̸̖̊͂p̷͎̹̙̈́̍̔ ̶̝̑o̵̡̭̹̽̐p̸̥̼̀̂̚͜ḙ̶̩̀̾̏n̶̰̰̜̐ ̸̙̿͝o̴̼̽̓́l̵͍͇̈̄̆d̵̡̟͆̓ ̷͈͉̌ẅ̷̖̓o̷̢͎͐̽͝ṷ̴̟̪͌̄͂n̵̗͂̓d̶̰̻͕̉̄s̴̨̞̱̒
His mouth dried about as static began to fill his ears.
B̸̛̟̟́u̵͍͌̐t̵̘̗̍̇̆ ̵̙͎̺̌̈́͘t̴͍̯̥̉͑̓h̴̢̟̱̚͝ĭ̷̢͈s̴̥̞̥͊ ̵̳̣͙̈́̆͒ẇ̶͉̹̞̈́̎o̵̬͆̆̂u̷̢͋n̵̘̮͈̉̿d̷͈͒̏̊ ̸̩͕͝ị̸͗̾͑s̸̢̹͌͐ ̵̲͈̫̊̈̚f̸̧̛̦̈́̎ḛ̷̚s̶̘̻̀͜t̸̳̐̈́̋è̸̡̹͍͠r̸͈͍̓̀̈́i̵̱͎̞͛̊n̶̹͋g̴̝̠̯̿̄͝
“Shut the fuck up!” Orion howled. “You’re not real!”
Y̸͍̔ͅo̷̤̚ù̴̳͝ ̷̭̕ṇ̶̂è̵̙̩͇̉e̸͚͕͑d̴͚̳̻͆̽ ̸͙̓̏t̵̰̥̯̒͝ő̷͈͎͎ ̵͔͈̇h̷͕̀͠e̴̮̋̉͜͠a̵̫͎͈͌l̷̮̦̏
“SHUT UP!”
Ȳ̷̱͓̱̉͊ô̷̲̝u̴͕̻̝̾̏̆ ̷͙͈͐͆n̷̙͠ę̶̭̼͘ế̸̱͍͎͠d̸̺͖̓̕͜ ̴̤̖̆ṫ̴͓͕̙̕͝ò̸̳̩ ̵̩͕͠ŗ̴̒͝é̶̗̲̅m̶̞̖̫̽è̷̡̜̮̌m̴̺̏͊b̷̯̝̲̀̈̚e̴͕̩̫̋ŗ̷̝́
“I SAID SHUT UP!”
Before him on the driveway an outline began to form from chalk. He wrenched his eyes shut, he didn’t want to see, he refused to look.
Ǐ̷̛̞̝͆ͅt̸̟͂ ̶̲́̐w̷̻̬̮̿̓̈ȁ̵̫̬̀̇s̸̪̹͐̅̄n̷̲̩͙̋'̴͎̺̥̊͠ṭ̶̟͆̽̀ ̵̧̟̙̀̃͊y̸͚̜̖̐ȏ̴̧̬͆͋͜ṵ̶̖͇͗͂ṙ̶̳̌̾͜ ̵̮̜́̆̀f̷͙̓͑ă̶̩͙̼ụ̸̜͚̀l̵̳̿̄͘t̷̹̗̥͋
“SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUUP!”
Even with his eyes closed Orion knew what was on the ground in front of him, he’d always known. He could still hear the gunshots, still hear the screams in his dreams, but he refused to believe it. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t.
He wasn’t strong enough to stop it, but he would never be too weak again.
WARNING: YOU HAVE FALLEN OUT OF BOUNDS OF THE GAME ZONE
An automated voice blared in Orion’s ears.
NOW RETURNING YOU TO THE GAME
The static stopped, and everything was replaced with a subtle silence and a gripping cold. Orion opened his eyes and found himself back at the bottom of the bay, floating in the water in front of a blank patch of ground in the never ending grid of Doortals. The door was gone, and several alerts were waiting for Orion in his UI.
Orion wasn't quite sure if he could even muscle down a slurpee, let alone face his friend right now.
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Big Bee
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Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 651
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Bryan Nautilus
OOC Username: Ladybug
Arena Points: 49
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Post by Big Bee on Jan 3, 2024 16:00:54 GMT 9
The first puddle of streetlamp light was only a step or two down the street, and Bee walked into the light like a moth seeking the glow of the moon.
The wide neon eye of the streetlight stared down at him, and he felt its light settle on his skin in a thin film. It felt like the remnants of warmth after sunbathing, or a hot shower, only there was a cool tint to this feel as if his whole body had just been flipped over to the cool side of a pillow.
The next lamp was across the road, and under it stood a thin, bent figure. Someone old, and though her face was drenched in downcast shadow there was no doubt who it was. Bee crossed the street, stepped into the light, and took his Nana's hand.
"Hey Nana! Long time no see!"
"Bryan! My you're getting so big and tall! I remember when you were just this high!" she said, putting her hand at about knee height. Her hands were small. Much smaller than he remembered, and almost all the muscle had faded with age. He stared at the backs of her hands and the network of raised veins. "But look at you now!" She laughed, and it made Bryan's heart jump. He hadn't heard that laugh in years. "I bet you've got women chasing after you everywhere you go."
Bryan smiled. "I do alright Nana."
"Alright! Your grandpa looked just like you and he was fending them off with a stick when I met him! Lucky for him I was never scared of a little stick." She cackled, in the way that grandmas do when they're sharing a little secret or private joke with someone a little too young to understand.
Bryan blushed, but laughed along. "And how have you been Nana?"
"Spry as ever! I got a letter from the President asking me to run the quarter mile next Olympics, can you believe it? But what about you! Have you had breakfast yet? I tell you what, you sit here and I'll go make you some scrambled eggs." She let go of him hand. "I've got juice in the fridge, and you can even use the silver spoon I keep in the cabinet, okay?"
"Sounds great! I feel like we haven't had breakfast together in ages."
"Well you never come visit, that's why! My door's always open. Just go fetch the cutlery for me, wouldja?" She pointed out into the gloom beyond the circle of light, and without thinking Bryan took a step outside. The lamp shut off above them and the scene was over.
Bryan was alone in the dark with no eggs, juice, or Nana. She would have been a hundred this year, he thought to himself as he wandered back across the road, ambling a zig-zag path between the lights. His stomach rumbled and his heart ached. It felt like a hundred years since he'd sat down with her. She looked so old. Had she always looked like that? Whenever he looked at pictures of her at Mom's house she looked much younger. Much healthier. Maybe that was just the camera adding twenty pounds.
The next circle of streetlamp light was empty. As was the next. And then he found himself staring at the spotlit figure of a broad-shouldered man. He had a bald head and a well-kept beard, and as Bee stepped into the light he found himself staring into the smiling eyes of his Uncle Terry. "Hey Little B! How ya been? Come ta test ya strength?"
Bryan rolled up some non-existent sleeves, preparing for the almost ritualistic greeting. "I haven't been hitting the gym three times a week for nothing, uncle T," he said with a smile.
Uncle Terry held out a hand and Bryan grasped it. His uncle chuckled and started squeezing, using his thumb to push Bryan's knuckles back in line so that the handshake really ground his bones.
Bryan squeezed back, hard as he could, hoping as he always did that by applying enough pressure he would force his uncle to release the grip. It was like shaking hands with a damn mudcrab!
"How's college?" his uncle asked, making small talk as he crushed Bryan's hand. "What's your degree in again? Computers?"
"I graduated a few years ago," Bryan managed. He gasped, and used the fresh oxygen and rising adrenaline to fuel his next squeeze. "And my degree was in Game Design."
"Oh video games! That's right! Nick's always playing on his PlayBox. Lots of games where you shoot people or aliens or whatever. Are you making a shooting game too?"
"No it's more about-" Bryan's mild melted a little with the combined strain of trying to explain UNOVR, Pokemon, and his role in the company while not giving up on the handshake. "It's about making friends."
"Like Facebook!"
"Sort of, but then you go exploring with those friends."
"Oh I getcha. I used to be in a diving group where we went looking for wrecks to salvage."
"Exactly," Bryan said, giving up on the conversation and the handshake. He pulled his ruined fingers away and tried very hard to ignore the throbbing pain. Massaging feeling back into his hand could wait. No way was he going to give Terry the satisfaction. "And I'm like a group, uh, coordinator."
"The divemaster!"
"Is that what they're called?"
"You bet! A noble profession you've got there Little B. Some day you're gonna hit it big I bet." His uncle clapped him on the shoulder. It was like being hit by a surfboard. "Just keep at it. Hey! Until next time, ay?" He held out his hand for a goodbye shake, and Bryan took a hasty step backwards into the darkness.
The light shut off and Terry disappeared.
Bryan never knew how much of Terry's uncle persona was an act. Did he really think all video games were about shooting? What about Tetris! Surely he knew about Cleveland Z, Smashboy, and Hero, even if he didn't know them by name. And what about Pikachu! Pokemon had been around for almost thirty years! Had he never seen a Pokemon? Maybe Bryan should have name dropped the little yellow mascot. Or Nintendo. Maybe he wasn't giving Terry enough credit.
The fact he thought Facebook was a game was worrying though. Or maybe it was a sign that he knew almost nothing about it?
Bryan walked between two more lights, before finding himself at the final stop.
This light was different. It buzzed.
He looked up into the bright neon halo, reading the now familiar letters that signified the end of the journey:
1/71 NOEP 47/2
He stood at the doors to the convenience store for a moment, the feeling slowly soaking back into his hand. The glare of the streetlight blinded him to everything that existed outside, and Bee was suddenly certain that the street, the houses, the beach, the hotel, and even the stars beyond this singular spotlight had all disappeared into nothingness.
He now stood in the only circle of reality in this whole world.
He reached out with his still aching hand and opened the door to the 7/11. He stepped through the gleaming doorway, and back beneath the bay.
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orioncayge
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Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 724
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 10
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Post by orioncayge on Jan 23, 2024 14:05:14 GMT 9
"AYYY, BIG MAN!" Bay and Bro rushed at Bee with equal speeds as he crossed the threshold back from his dreamlike state. Orion's hand clapped his shoulder, beaming a bright smile at his boy. He'd had more time than he'd known what to do with whilst waiting for the snack run to end, and in the midst of settling through his own emotional turmoil he'd concocted his path forward.
Lying.
This wasn't a snowballs chance in hell he was going to tell Bee what had just transpired, after all, how the fuck could he. "Hey Bryan, your game caused me incredible emotional duress and may or may not have ripped open an emotional wound seventeen years in the making!" How the fuck in Gaias green earth and Poseidon's blue bay was he going to get away with that? At bare minimum it was going to be awkward as fuck, at worse someone was going to walk away with that feelings jam feeling mad motherfucking guilty. So, Orion opted for the best alternative, the one that had apparently been doing a real rockstar job of keeping this boat mcfuckin floating.
Punt that shit, deal with it later.
It was surprisingly easy, an epiphany that was equal parts convenient and unsettling for the fighter. How easily he just snapped into this same practiced smile like slim jim, how despite the sorrow in his heart he could still fake it like Paris Hilton's tits. How even though he wanted to log out and curl into a ball in his bathtub he could still stand here and pretend nothing was wrong.
Like he'd always been doing all along.
"Did you snag any goodies while you were in there? You got my slurpee stored in your inventory or something?"
With one arm curled around his buddy he would let out a laugh. "God man, you should have been there! You missed reliving my tenth birthday dude! You coulda met my Tio Gio and listened to him go on about the great game afoot in the start, or Uncle Mac grillin up some dogs. I have no clue why I was so worried homie. What was your door like?"
Guilt gnawed at his gut like a starving dog chained to the rusty axel of a rusty Ford long abandoned in a junkheap, but Orion shoved the feeling down below the surface of his mind for now, praying that the bubbles would stop gurgling and he could just go back to being the way he once was, ignorant to his own terminal condition. But the cat was out of the bag, Pandora's box had opened and it was time to watch the worms wriggle. One way or another he would face this, just not this moment. For right now he would leave it down here, deep in the cold and dark, fathoms and fathoms Below the Bay, a fight for another day.
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Big Bee
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Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 651
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Bryan Nautilus
OOC Username: Ladybug
Arena Points: 49
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Post by Big Bee on Jan 30, 2024 18:59:20 GMT 9
Bee heaved a sigh of relief. Underwater it came out in a huge cloud of bubbles that obscured his face. He shot Orion a thumbs up, and kicked lazily to keep the two of them level. It felt strange being pulled around by the gentle currents, like he couldn't keep talking unless they were face to face. He opened his map and dropped a location ping. Maybe he would come back here again just to look at the stars. He chuckled, and then stopped as he pictured the online reaction to changing UNOVR to a subscription model. Some things you just shouldn't joke about. He gestured upwards with a thumb.
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